


Echoes

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Attempted Murder, F/M, Hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9214616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

“No,” Spencer thought as he opened his eyes. Tugging at his arms, he could feel they were tied behind him with some kind of rope. He had no idea where he was, but as he looked around he took in his surroundings - to his back was a couch, the left a computer, in front a TV and to the right, a door; he was in someone’s house. Underneath the door, he could see the shadowy footsteps of the person who’d brought him here - undoubtedly the unsub. As he opened the door and saw the silhouette of the man in question, he realized exactly who it was…Mr. Scratch.

“Oh, Spencer Reid,” he said silkily. “I’ve been waiting to mess with you for a long time. This one is special to me.”

“Why is that?” Spencer asked, watching as he pulled a bottle of something, presumably the hallucinogenic drug he’d been using on his victims, out of his pocket. He had to buy time for the team to get there. He knew Scratch enough to know he wanted the team to get there; they’d find him.

“Because, Dr Reid,” he continued, inching ever closer to where Spencer was restrained, “No one else on the team has a significant other on the team. I get two for one with you.”

Spencer’s heart sank as he realized what he was about to do; he tried his best to hide his fear, but it did no good. Scratch was going to coax him into killing the love of his life, Y/N, with the use of the drug he’d become known for. He hoped she would just kill him rather than risk her own life.

With that, Scratch sprayed the drug in his face, not once, but twice. The effect was immediate. “Your wife is coming to kill you,” he heard a voice echo from behind him. “She’s on her way to hurt you. You have to kill her first, but not with your gun.” From behind, he felt the gun leave his waistband. “No, for her, it’s going to be up close and personal.” The voice sounded so far away. “When your wife walks in that door, you’re going to knock her to the floor, put your hands around her throat and watch the life leave her eyes.”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling his head spin and his mouth go dry. He knew he shouldn’t be listening, but his body didn’t feel like it was his own. Suddenly, a single set of feet appeared at the room where he was located.

He felt the ropes loosen around his hands.

“Baby,” Y/N said, seeing Spencer on the chair, “It’s me. You’re okay now.”

Though he knew he shouldn’t, Spencer lunged at Y/N, knocking her to the floor and placing his hands at her throat. As he began to apply pressure, showing no other signs of emotion, she brought her hands to his, attempting to remove them. “Baby, it’s me,” she choked, “It’s Y/N. You’re wife. You don’t want to do this.” His grip only tightened.

She didn’t want to shoot him. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. But she needed to get someone else’s attention to get Spencer off her; the strength he possessed in this moment was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Reaching for the gun with every last bit of strength she had, she finally grabbed it, pointing it in the air and shooting at a wall. 

“Spencer, don’t!” Emily screamed, running up from behind and pulling Spencer from Y/N’s body. He stumbled back, hitting his head on a table while Y/N was coughing violently.

However, as soon as she had regained her composure, she crawled toward Spencer, but was blocked by Emily. “What are you doing?” Y/N asked, standing up and looking at her husband’s tired body.

Emily pushed her back gently. “We need to make sure the drug is out of his system,” she said, “go out to the ambulance with JJ, please.”

“Emily please, please make sure he’s okay,” Y/N replied, tears streaming down her face as she headed toward the ambulance to have her throat checked out. She could still feel the pressure of his hands when she reached at her collarbone. If she ever saw Scratch face-to-face again, she wouldn’t follow protocol; she’d kill him on sight.

————–

Although everything turned out fine, Y/N was told to go to the emergency room to get a full check-up, so the rest of the team and Spencer walked in about 15 minutes after she arrived.

“Y/N,” Spencer cried as he walked up to her bed. “Baby I’m so sorry. E-Emily told me what I did,” he cracked as he looked down at his shaking hands.

Y/N pushed herself up from the bed and wrapped her arms around Spencer’s neck. “You’re okay,” she cried, burying her head into him. When she thought back to his hands at her throat, she was afraid someone was going to shoot him to get him off of her.

“I’m fine,” he sobbed, “It’s you that’s not.” He stared in horror at the bruise marks at her neck. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

She squeezed tighter, thankful she’d be able to go home alive with her husband. “It wasn’t your fault, baby. It was him. It was Scratch. But nothing and I mean nothing, not even that man is going to get between us.” Grabbing the sides of his head, she forced him to look at her, their foreheads resting against each other, the worst of things behind them.

————–

Nearly six weeks had passed since the incident with Scratch, and Spencer was still beating himself up over the fact that he’d nearly killed the love of his life with his bare hands.

He barely spoke. A look of guilt adorned his face nearly every second of every day, especially the first couple of weeks when he could see the evidence of what he’d done. Faint hand-shaped bruises painted her skin.

But they were gone now. All of the physical evidence of Scratch’s work had faded and Y/N had forgiven him the second his hands had reached around her throat.

One morning, she put a necklace on before work, watching as Spencer flinched, her bare neck being adorned with something beautiful rather than ugly bruises he’d put there. “Spence,” Y/N said, walking over to where he stood at the bedroom door. She grabbed his face in her hands. “I need you to hear me. This. Was. His. Fault,” she said, not even wanting to mention his name. “Not yours. That’s the power of that drug. I do not blame you for what happened, and I never will. Don’t shut down on me now. If you do, he wins, and I told you I refuse to let him come between us.”

A tear fell from his eye as she spoke. “Okay,” he whispered, kissing her sweetly, grazing her neck lightly. “I love you.”


End file.
